


Homecoming

by Gravekeeper



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Canon - Video Game, F/F, Gen, Impostor Syndrome, Introspection, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, Snippets, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 11:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gravekeeper/pseuds/Gravekeeper
Summary: [Drabble, Plotless Character Musings]It was too much all at the same time; Team Plasma, the Sages, the League, Zekrom and Reshiram, Interpol, and all the press and overwhelming adulation that followed. Hilda took a page from N's book and made herself scarce ('Looking for N' had a better ring to it than 'I am freaking out and want to hide under my bed for a year or two').Nearly three years later, Hilda returns home to more adulation and finds that, this time around, she doesn't mind it one bit.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Just some silliness I decided to post, since it was longer than my usual snippets and drabbles. While I don't have the time, nowadays, to really sit down and do a multi-part story, I tend to write short dialogue snippets and what-ifs ideas when fed prompts by my friends on Discord. I have an 'Every Frame a Painting' problem where I can't just go "Character X did Y action," I always feel the need to work out why 'Y action' happened, what motivated Character X to do so, how did Character X get to the point where they had to do so, and so on...
> 
> Check out the end notes to see just how silly this truly is.

Over the skies of northern Unova, a deep black shadow traced a line across the cloudless bright blue. From ten thousand feet in the air, the region looked much the same to Hilda’s eyes, but she knew better—three years had gone by, and a lot had changed.

Hilda’s homecoming had been an unnoticed one both by circumstance and by design; the near success of a revived Team Plasma, the inaugural Pokémon World Tournament, and Hilda’s self-exile after her final battle with N had kept her out of the spotlight and out of the news, much to her pleasure. Well, _mostly_ out of the news; those first months had been filled with rampant speculation about her whereabouts. In the days following the rise and fall of Team Plasma, she’d helped Interpol with finding the rest of the Sages, and then_ poof,_ no one knew where she’d disappeared to. To make matters worse, N had vanished without a word as well, and the rumors about him and Hilda ranged from sordid to salacious. Hilda shuddered at the imagery.

It made sense, Hilda could admit: Champions tended to stick around to defend their title, but Hilda had disappeared before the dust from the battles against Team Plasma had settled. The press and the internet had a lot to say about her apparent dereliction, but becoming the Champion had been just a distant goal back then, not her life’s dream. Hilda was more than fine with letting her title lapse _in absentia;_ a fancy name didn’t make her any more or any less of a Trainer.

Despite her ambivalence, Hilda_ had_ fought hard to become the Champion, harder than she’d ever thought she’d need to and, honestly, harder than she’d thought herself capable of. When she’d left Nuvema with Bianca and Cheren, how could she have predicted finding herself neck-deep in the battle between the League and an ancient royal sect using the bearer of Unova’s Truth as a smokescreen for world domination, with herself being hailed as the inheritor of Unova’s Ideals?

(She didn’t even want to _think_ about some people implying her to be a physical manifestation or reincarnation of the concept; hard _Nope_ to that!)

At the start of her journey, Hilda had been prepared prepared for many things; the dangers of wild Pokémon and Training as a profession are taught from a young age (for whatever good it did, considering the alarming number of Ghost Pokémon that started out in life as careless Ghost Pokémon _Trainers)._ Hilda wasn’t quite as prepared to have _trained Pokémon_ used in attempts on her life; that sort of thing only happened to legendary, go-down-in-history-books Trainers.

Hilda had heard of such gifted Trainers growing up; it was hard not to, in her house. They were young people who’d taken on the world, who’d defeated great evils and become Champions in their own right; and people talked about them all the time. They were exceptional Trainers, standing out among standouts; not invulnerable, not undefeatable, but dauntless and indefatigable… And when she’d saved Alder and faced down N and Ghetsis, Hilda began hearing her name fluttering from the lips of others with that same sort reverence. It was honestly the weirdest, scariest feeling she’d ever experienced. She ran away—finding wherever the hell N had shoved off to was as good an excuse as any to disguise her freak-out.

She suspected her friend had disappeared for the same reason. _Were_ they friends? It was weird.

Honestly, Hilda didn’t _feel_ like she had the right to stand shoulder to shoulder next to the likes of Trainers like Red in the hearts and minds of people; the man had been barely twelve when he took on the ‘ceusdamned mob so many years ago before blazing through the League, becoming the Champion, and then disappearing for three years to find himself and become stronger and… Well, okay, so Red was a bad example to pick, considering she’d accidentally modeled her life after his, but _still_.

Could she have handled the suddenly-a-hero thing a little better? Totally. Still, she didn’t regret what she did; despite all the almost-dying and the constant questioning of her morals, traveling within Unova felt safe, _controlled_. Her home region was huge, with large tracts of mostly untamed wilds between the towns and cities, but she was always an Xtransceiver call away from her friends, family, and the odd supermodel or pilot here and there (was it normal to be wingmanning for Gym Leaders?). Hell, should the worst have happened out in the desert, Hilda was fairly someone would’ve found her remains before the Sandile were done with her. Striking out on her own away from her safety nets—save for the Pokémon at her side—felt like the start of her _real_ journey.

Hilda had seen so many new places and captured so many interesting Pokémon along her travels (thank Arceus Juniper had upgraded her Pokédex!). The lands in between regions were difficult to traverse, but infinitely rewarding. Zekrom was often dormant in its Dark Stone, which suited Hilda just fine since it was hard to lay low with it just casually hovering over her. She’d also run into N a few times along the way, though not because of any exhaustive attempts at finding him, of course; Zekrom and Reshiram were just naturally drawn to each other. The meetings were brief, but amicable; Hilda could admit that N was an _okay_ guy once he pulled that Steelix out of his ass. He was friendlier, and a bit of a sassy dick once the walls were down. Hilda was still on the fence on whether that was a positive change or not.

Hilda watched the news from time to time; back home, Iris had taken her place as Unova’s new Champion. Even better, her besties were moving up in the world; Cheren had become a Gym Leader, and Bianca had joined Prof. Juniper’s lab as an Aide. She sent them both postcards from the road every once in a while, and trinkets and souvenirs to her mother. Somehow, no matter _where_ she was hiding out, Hilda always received birthday and holiday presents delivered by her mom’s Unfezant. She suspected Looker might’ve been narking on her; the dude was _everywhere_.

Her journey had come to an abrupt end mere days after she had crossed into Kanto. She’d been sitting at a diner in Saffron City when she felt her connection to N and Reshiram forcibly severed, and the sensation that followed had chilled her to the bone. Hearing the other patrons gasp, she lifted her gaze to the television screen in the corner of the restaurant; Team Plasma was back and— _‘Holy crap did they_ literally _freeze an entire city?’_

It took her days to fly back all the way from Kanto; along the way, she had called her mom, her friends, and the professor a number of times. Hilda found it a little bit vexing to hear them all worrying more about _her_ than themselves. _‘Really, guys?’_ Sure, she’d dropped off the face of the Earth for a few years, but she wasn’t the one in immediate danger! About half a day away from Unova, Hilda and Zekrom felt it—N and Reshiram had reunited. Not only that, but they had found their Truth once more, and found it within someone _else._ This time, their connection gently faded away, but not before giving Hilda a lead on where to find her friend.

Hilda had located the silly, silly boy in the ruins of his castle, lazily skating on what was left of his personal halfpipe (seriously, trust fund kid much?). He was waiting for her, that much was obvious; she hadn’t called him when she’d called the others, but he still knew, the bastard. At least he hadn’t noticed her flying overhead yet; she could work with this.

Hilda might’ve taken just a little bit of pleasure in watching him trip and eat shit when she’d landed next to the ramp with a mighty, earth-rattling crash from Zekrom. Petty? _Her?_ Nah; that was just her evening the score after his little quip about her chest and which side of the Hot Springs she should’ve been at, back at Lavabridge.

A few bandages later, and N had brought her up to speed: in the time it had taken Hilda to fly from Kanto to Unova, a force of nature in the shape of a young woman had rallied and challenged Team Plasma, her convictions earning her the favor and aid of a Dragon from Unova’s founding legends. That sounded awfully familiar to Hilda, and N had no problem picking up on her thoughts. “She’s a lot like you,” he agreed, “not just in looks, but in how she sees the world. She’ll be a Champion, too; Reshiram and I could see it, this simple truth.” He’d said all this with that annoyingly cryptic, lazy smile of his; the same dumb not-smirk he’d use to say both the most innocuous and world-shattering things alike. Hilda found it _particularly_ annoying. 

They talked for a while longer before Hilda decided to make herself scarce with the excuse of needing to go back to Nuvema (He didn’t believe her). Well, it wasn’t her fault N could go on talking for _hours_ without taking a breath! Hilda hadn’t felt particularly inclined to ruminate around the perceptive man; after all, she was more than a little angry at herself for thinking that Unova couldn’t be saved without her and Zekrom; So much for not trying to be a hero! For all her talk of N and Cheren having huge egos, she wasn’t any better than them; Bianca was truly a saint, putting up with the lot of them.

Did Hilda even deserve to have Zekrom by her side? She rolled her eyes as she felt a pleasant pulse of reassurance in her heart from a certain ancient Dragon encased in stone; _‘You’re biased, buddy, nobody asked you;’_ she thought with a smile.

Hilda didn’t bother paying much attention to the news afterwards but, sure enough, just a few days later she overheard people discussing a newly crowned Champion. An aspiring _actress,_ from the sound of things! Well, not that it mattered much to Hilda; she was back in Unova, but she wasn’t back _home._ With the threat of Team Plasma dealt with, Hilda had fallen back to the habit of maintaining radio silence, turning off her Xtransceiver and ghosting her friends and loved ones, except for a lone text she sent her mom out of sheer guilt. She’d gotten very used to doing her loner thing, and it was going to take her a bit to adjust to being casually available to people again.

Hilda had instead chosen to hole herself up in the Battle Subway, a self-imposed hermitage that didn’t make sense even to herself; she could be well enough alone in her room back home, after all. Something felt _unresolved_ in her heart, and the constant battling at least kept her mind occupied. The battles were _okay,_ though they weren’t nearly as fun without Hilbert around. Of course, she hadn’t expected to find him still in the Subway after so many years; the dude had more talent than he gave himself credit for, no matter how many times Hilda had tried to convince him to stop doubting himself. Hilda pointedly ignored Zekrom’s unsubtle hints at parallels, choosing instead to make a mental note to give Hilbert a call once she had sorted herself out.

At the very least, Ingo and Emmet understood that she needed the distraction and turned a blind eye to her literal bumming around in the facility. She’d long ago swapped out her original Pokémon team with a hodgepodge of lower-level Pokémon she’d caught during her travels to maintain anonymity, though she was sure _someone_ must’ve recognized her face; right? …Or was that just a bit of narcissism showing through?

Maybe she cared more about acknowledgement than she’d led herself to believe?

_‘Just my luck,’_ Hilda mused the very next day when a young woman stepped into the Battle Subway and gaped at her like she’d grown a second head. The woman was about Hilda’s age, maybe a year younger, looking slender and positively sporty in her sneakers, tight black leggings and tighter blue shirt. The Subway’s rocking movements over the tracks were _very_ flattering to the girl’s distracting top-heaviness. 

Hilda thanked her lucky Staryu that the girl was too stunned to notice her overt staring because Hilda wasn’t sure she was going to be able to stop any time soon. A minute into the stare-down, she’d been pondering how to subtly take a picture with her Xtransceiver when the other girl finally spoke up; “You’re the Champion,” she breathed, barely audible over the hum of the Subway.

Confirmation, then; Hilda had indeed been recognized. She tore her eyes off of the stretched-out Poké Ball symbol on the other Trainer’s shirt and met her gaze; that’s when Hilda’s world fell away, leaving everything shrouded in pitch black, save for the other Trainer and the space between them.

** _!!_ **

_Trainers’ Eyes,_ despite the often-humorous use of the term by non-Trainers, was the real deal; the unwavering, challenging stare of a Trainer could communicate so much more than words could; their intent, their resolve, the strength of their bond with their Pokémon. Hilda’s eyes widened as her hand subconsciously hovered over one of her Poké Balls; _“You’re_ the Champion,” she couldn’t help but Chatot back.

They had battled, of course; there was no way they wouldn’t, not after their eyes met. Ingo and Emmet had kicked them out, of course; _“The Battle Subway is not a space for dick-measuring contests between the two most powerful Trainers in Unova,”_ they had intoned as one. Rude! Hilda made sure to give the twins her best pout as she walked past them, followed by double middle fingers as soon as the other girl’s back was turned.

Hilda and the Champion stepped out from Gear Station very late in the evening, or very early in the morning, depending on one’s point of view. Briefly, Hilda wondered what the Champion had been looking for, being out so late, but she figured it wasn’t really her business to ask. They walked for a while in relative quiet, taking a meandering route to the Pokémon Center. Hilda gave a silent thanks to the newsstand near the exit to the station, the one with magazines emblazoned with still-fresh headlines of Unova’s newest Champion; after all, she hadn’t asked for Rosa’s name earlier (distracted as she was), and it would’ve felt a little embarrassing to ask for it now in the heady, glistening afterglow of battle.

_’Speaking of afterglow…’_ Hilda mused as she walked alongside the Champion; Rosa was rosy, radiant, and brimming with energy. Hilda supposed it was to be expected—Rosa had asserted herself as the _real_ Champion with her victory over the old and busted ex-Champion. Rosa’s giddiness was infectious, and Hilda couldn’t help but smile. “You’re something else, Champ,” she said, playfully tapping Rosa’s arm with her fist.

A full blush bloomed across Rosa’s face, ears and neck; she covered her face with both hands, turning away from Hilda. “Gah!” she squeaked, and Hilda swore she could see steam coming out of Rosa’s head. “You’re just saying that!” she replied, flailing her arms.

Coming from anyone else, Hilda would’ve taken that reaction as a show of carefully-crafted false modesty; Rosa, however, exuded an aura of sheer sincerity that readily permeated through Hilda’s cynical walls. “I’m not! It was close, sure, but that’s only because you didn’t use Reshiram.” Hilda couldn’t even be mad at Rosa going easy on her.

Rosa playfully bumped Hilda with her hip. “And you didn’t use Zekrom!” she singsonged.

Hilda shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been a real measure of my skill; I didn’t even battle N and Reshiram with it.” Hilda chose to ignore the pulse of approval she felt from Zekrom; the dumb thing still gave her way too much credit for being a stubborn woman-child.

Rosa skipped forward, blocking Hilda’s path and turning towards her with _stars_ in her eyes. “How are you so _cool?!”_

It was Hilda’s turn to blush. “Er, I’m really not… I mean, I don’t think the Twins would have liked it if they caught me using it—”

“—But it’s not even about Zekrom; you didn’t even use your Hall of Fame team,” Rosa barreled on, getting up in Hilda’s personal space. “You took it easy on me and I still almost lost!” Rosa grabbed Hilda’s hands and gasped dramatically, looking to Hilda like the world’s curviest Swalot, _“Can I be your apprentice?!_ I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long and battle with you and I think we could totally win the Doubles Tournament at the PWT!”

Hilda had to squint away from the blinding glow of Rosa’s jubilant splendor; Arceus, this girl could light up Castelia on her own with all that energy! Still, an apprentice? Someone as good as Rosa? That didn’t sit right with Hilda at all. Sure, she had some tips for the girl, but Rosa had used some really clever strategies that Hilda was itching to ask her about. “Yeah, no, there’s no way I’m taking on the damn _Champion_ as an apprentice,” Hilda began, and Rosa wilted immediately.

“Oh, um, yeah, I guess that was a bit much to—”

“—I wouldn’t mind a sparring partner, though. We can learn from each other, right?” Hilda had struggled to keep herself from grinning after her dramatic pause; Rosa was hilariously easy to mess with, it seemed.

Rosa’s reaction was instant, and judging by the distant, raucous barking, Hilda figured that whatever excited sound Rosa was apparently producing was beyond the audible range of a human being. Hilda smiled as she watched the mesmerizing commotion under the other Trainer’s shirt; if Rosa was going to hop up and down like that every time she got happy, then Hilda had ample incentive to keep the Champion in a good mood. _‘Geez, it’s like two Jigglypuff in a Pound fight.’_

Hilda’s eye twitched as the bouncing bountifulness on display brought a memory from the previous week to the surface; _“She’s a lot like you… in looks…”_ N had claimed, and Hilda immediately recognized it for the pot-shot that it was. _‘So what if I don’t even own a bra?! I still own your ass in battle, you wannabe skater boy!’_

“Hey Rosa, how about we pay a friend of mine a visit? He’d be a good punching b—sorry, _practice_ for double battles!” Hilda grinned as Rosa whooped and jabbed her fist skyward. “Attagirl!”

* * *

* * *

Bianca heard the message chirp from her Xtransceiver and, at the same time from elsewhere in the lab, she heard Fennel and Juniper’s respective chimes as well. She smiled; Hilda had sent a group message to quite a few people! _‘Hey guys, I’m home,’_ it read, followed by a picture attachment, which Bianca eagerly opened.

The picture was a selfie of a rosy-cheeked, messy-haired Hilda in a pink visor, smiling awkwardly but contentedly back at the camera with the Nimbasa skyline visible in the distance; Bianca immediately recognized the seats of the Rondez-View Ferris Wheel. Bianca laughed; Hilda had never been able to help her awkwardness in front of a camera, but that just made her pictures all the more adorable. And she looked so happy, too!

“Huh…” Bianca raised an eyebrow. “What’s…?” She could _just_ make out the reflection of a person on the glass behind Hilda. So it wasn’t a selfie?

_Ping!_ Bianca _eeped_ as a message came through, followed by another, and a few more in quick succession. A lot of people in the group had replied with _‘Welcome back!’_ messages, though it didn’t take long for the topic to shift to the photo itself, and Bianca covered her mouth to stifle her giggles as the messages got more speculative; the others had noticed as well, it seemed.

**Hilmom ** _Baby u look so pretty with your hair all poofy like that!!_

**Skyla** _Isnt the Rondez-View couples only_

**Cheren** _She’s quite clearly not alone._

**Hilmom** _Hildy??_

**Hilda** _its a selfie mom_

**P. Juniper** _Nice try kiddo but you’re not fooling anyone_

**Elesa** _@Skyla It is. @Hilda I can totally see someone in the reflection they’re wearing your hideous trucker cap._

**Iris** _i think i see hair donuts!_

**Clay** _Well dont that beat all! Aiming high aintcha? Always said you had grit, girlie_

**Cheren** _You work fast, Hilda; your efficiency is commendable._

**Hilbert** _whoa :eyes:_

**Skyla** _oof good job Hilda :thumbs:_

**Hilmom** _Hildy promise me ur being safe_

**Shadow** _There’s a clinic right there in Nimbasa if you need to get tested_

**Hilda** _FUCKIN ARCEUS WERE FRIENDS WE JSUT MET LAST NITE_

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> So, how did this come about? A friend and I are avid consumers of fanart of media we like, so we end up comparing and commenting on art finds all the time. I ran into a very silly image of Rosa and Hilda at Nimbasa, with Hilda taking a cellphone picture of Rosa with the Ferris wheel in the background... Except Hilda was just blatantly focusing on Rosa's chest. I immediately typed out the following:
> 
> =========
> 
> "Did you take it? Can I see it?"
> 
> "...Yes, and no."
> 
> "What? Why can't—"
> 
> "—Anyways let's go ride the Ferris wheel!"
> 
> ============
> 
> And that was it, the Rosa/Hilda interaction was stuck in my head and I literally decided to write a snippet on how they got to the point where those four lines were uttered.
> 
> Yes, I realize I have a problem, and yes, I realize this ended up having pretty much nothing to do with the original dialogue.
> 
> (The aforementioned picture: https://twitter.com/The_Only_Shoe/status/1145693700770738179)


End file.
